(( OOC: Oh and by the way Perthina is the God of the Moon. Its from a different site that I used to go to. ))

The winds viciously tore across the overly large dunes of sand. They were magnificent and unflinching to the winds of the approaching desert storm. A shadowy elven figure kneeled atop a large dune of sand that seemed to mimick the size to which a mountain would hold. He wore leather gloves upon his ahds, leather pants upon his legs, and an elven traveller's shirt upon his upper torso. Upon his eyes was a soft piece of dark green cloth that blinded him, yet what was underneath few had seen. Covering all of this was a billowing dark green cloak that cast a dark and ominous shadow upon the wearer. The moon cast its crystalline light upon the surface of the desert as the cloaked elven man held a clenched fist full of sand that slowly blew to the east as he held it. The shadowy figure's head was turned unto the sand below for he was blind and found calm and peace in the passing winds and gliding sands. It was almost as if he was truly apart of it. As his eyes were cut off from the world he could just make immaginary figments in his head of slowly gliding over the dunes in peace and utter calm. The cloaked elven figure could hear that the sand was now completly blown out of his hand. The shadowy figure then turned a cloaked head towards his hand as if able to look through the blindfold, yet in truth he could not. He let his hand drop to his side in his large and billowing cloak. It seemed almost regal, especially with the added fact of him not being able to escape his elven heritage. So he stood with proper elven stature. The shadowy elven figure seemed almost like a lost diety or statue from afar, but none would even belive this since he was in the desert. A mirage would be a simpler explanation to things. The cloaked elven figure slowly began to walk with the wind, going east, letting the moon's pale blue light illuminate his path. The light of Perthina seemed to follow the cloaked elven figure's every foot step as he walked the peaks of the sand dunes. Not only was it hard to walk the peak's of the dunes at night, but it was an even harder challenge to get atop them. They were true challenges of physical skill and physique.

Olath guided himself through the the strong winds, which seemed to cast a veil over the desert. Even someone with keen eyesight could not see more than twenty feet in front of their face. The wind had constantly blown Olath's hood down, so he had decided to just keep it that way, revealing his featureless face. Olath's head was no more than an ominous skull, with two glowing orbs that seemed to float in the sockets of his face. The fangs of his jaw were stained in the blood of many of his enemies. The spines on his back that petruded from his cloak, and were sharp as daggers. Olath was not like most other demons, who still dwell the abyss. He resembled an undead, more than a demon, but Olath had never experienced, what he calls the 'ultimate equalizer'. Olath was very different from other demons...

"Blast these damned winds. Send them to the abysses I would..." He curesd under his breath. Olath seemed to have been climbing this same dune for a while now. Either the winds had turned him around a few times, or the dune was incredibly large. As he climbed the mounstrous sand hill, his patience wore thin. Olath had not come to climb mountains, for it had no benifit for him. He needed not to physicly train himself, for he had no muscles. Olath came here to plan about what he had come from the abysses to do. But this was not to be accomplished with the sand storm. Olath looked upward, to see if his trek up the tall sand dune was near an end, but all his eyes could grasp was the silhouette of what seemed to be a cloaked figure. "I beleive its time for a nice game of king of the mountain." Olath said, as he charged at the man. Olath lept at what he assumed was a man, attempting to kick him off the dune, and send him tumbling downward.

The shadowy elven figure felt a presence grow near. He slightly tilted his head as if to try and get a better sound from a passing wind. Words were echoed unto him as he listened unto the council of the swift breeze. It was calming and clear in its words, yet the words of the being to which it carried were not so. The cloaked elven figure then slowly reached out his hands so that they were only but a foot or so from his sides. His palms faced the soft sand below as he stretched his mind out acrossed the landscape. Feeling for disturbances in the sands, for even a minor sliding of a dune would turn the shadowy elven man's attention. He felt something slice through the passing winds as his head slightly cocked to the elft from noticing it. It was confusing at first, but then it became all too clear. A slight gasp escaped his mouth as he purposly fell to the sand below him to try and evade the blow. The cloaked elven figure then slowly stood as he then reached up a gloved hand and retrieved his katana from its sheath that was strapped upon his back at almost all times. The shadowy elven figure then turned his head towards the attacker, his eyes still blinded from the piece of soft dark green cloth that covered his strange eyes. The cloaked elven figure then tossed the sword up into the air and caught it by the hilt with a sort of elven grace, yet he now held it in reverse from how he had held it. The blade now pointed downwards from his hand and the handle stuck upwards. It was how the true warriors of this sort of sword held it. " King of the hill it is... " the blind man said with the same emotionless look upon his face as before. " My eyes are blinded, but they can sometimes be decieving... " The shadowy elven figure said as he faced his head towards his opponent. The cloaked elven figure gave an ever so slight bow before preparing for the next attack to come his way.

Olath was surprised when he passed through where the figure had been standing, and not hit anything with his attack. "Mirage, perhaps?" He thought, landing a few feet away from the figure. Olath turned to see if it were true, but was only to find the same figure, but with a sword drawn. Surprised at the reflexes of this being, the demon attempted to get a clear glimpse of what he was fighting. The winds still distorted his appearence slightly, but Olath could tell it was either a man or an elf, and it definately had a blind fold across his face. "Probably to protect his eyes from the sand storm." Olath thought, as his eyes grew brighter red, nearly glowing. Realizing that the demon would be nothing against a sword, without his own, he unsheathed the blade from its sheath, which had been securely tightened onto a cloth-like belt, around Olath's waist. Olath grasped the hilt of the heavy blade tightly with both of his hands. The figure he was fighting, was an unusual type. "Tell me first, though," Olath started to say, pausing for a second. "Why is it that you are on this sand dune, in the middle of these godforsaken lands. Your kind cannot go without water, and food." Olath asked in his deep and raspy tone, waiting for a reply before he made an attack. The winds whipped about furiously, lashing sand about, and howling as if it did not want this fight to take place.

(( OOC: lol here is that short I promised. ))

The shadowy elven figure watched the attacking figure with his ears. Sound was his greatest ally now. An ever so slight chill ran down the cloaked elven man's spine as he now could tell of what race this being was. " A daemon... " He thought as small pieces of evidence formed within his train of thought. " And male from its words... " The shadowy elven figure could feel the fighting intensions within this being, but from his words instead of rather countless attacks. The sun glinted off of the cloaked elven figure's blade as it gave off a bright shimmer. The sand seemed to dance around them in the fashion of an opera of sorts; the winds creating various sounds as the sands sliced through the breeze. " We can last longer then you know.... " The shadowy elven figure said in a tone that was cold as ice and filled with the essence of an empty heart. It was as if his voice passed through the breeze creating a chilling effect that ran down the spine of the listener. Like a cold and long serpent coiling itself around a person. Turning senses completely off and numbing the nerves one by one.

If this elv was a demon, it might have intimidated Olath a bit, but as he was of what Olath considered a weaker race, his words did nothing. "Alright, but that did not answer my question as to why you are here. Elves usually stay in their little forests, and shoot arrows at things. But you are in the place I'd least expect one of your kind..." Olath said, loosening the grip on his sword. The demon wished to know why the person was in this desert. The desert winds stilled howled, and became annoying to Olath. The demon would definately leave this place, when he had the chance, and when he was finished dealing with this person. Olath was still deciding whether he wanted to fight the elv or not. He seemed to be a confident warrior, and from what Olath had seen so far, the elv had shown good skill with his sword. If the elv did not answer Olath's question this time, the demon would attack him.

((So short...))